The World We Lost
by Anemone Frost
Summary: A sequel to the fic Sorrow. A new nightmare enters Merry's life, also bringing a chance for revenge......
1. Default Chapter

****

Disclaimer: Most of the used characters are the property of Tolkien.

With sweat trickling down his body, Merry shot upright in bed producing a scream that he instantly stifled with his hand. Ragged breaths rose in his chest, loud enough that the form next to him began to stir softly. Merry calmed himself, checked his wife Estella over, and cautiously drifted from the bed as to not disturb her slumber. He walked from to the bedroom and, upon noticing the dying fire, took a poker before seating himself next to the hearth. Letting out a low sigh he poked at the embers trying to ignite the flame, succeeding in making a light crackle. A soft hand groped his shoulder nearly making him jump in fright but he soon recognized the gentle touch.

"Why are you up Merry?" Estella asked. "This is the fifth time within the week. What is so troublesome about your dreams that they keep waking you in such a manner? It worries me to see you in such a ragged appearance."

"Do not worry my dear," Merry said, kissing her hand. "I'm sure it will pass. It's only a nightmare that plagues me."

"Not the one of you with Pippin again," Estella sighed. "I could understand the nightmares then but after this much time? I know you two were close but it has been nearly nine months since his passing. Merry, don't you think those dreams should have ended?"

"Perhaps," Merry replied. "But it is you that should take your mind off it dear Estella! Please, take your place back in bed. There is no need to gain exhaustion over such a minor issue with the little one due at any time." He placed his palm at the end of Estella's rounded belly, rubbing gentle circles through the nightgown. A soft jolt sent shivers down his spine. "I just felt the little one kick my hand!"

"Aye, the baby knows its father," Estella chuckled, "and how much he deserves a kicking for leaving me cold in the bed."

"Now that was a bit uncalled for," Merry pouted. "I left the covers snug and warm around you." Seeing her stern eyes pierce through him, Merry groaned. "I will join you shortly Estella. I just want to sit here a bit longer to think."

"Very well," Estella sighed. "But you better hurry or the next kick you get will be from me and it will not be as gentle as the babe's!" 

"Yes ma'am!" Merry said, trying hard not to laugh at her threat. "Have we decided on the name of the baby?"

"Yes, dear, we did that quite some time ago," Estella said, moving in the doorway. "Peregrin if it is a boy and Willow if it is a girl. I have been praying for boy."

"So have I," Merry whispered, watching her vanishing form.

Merry's attention drew back to the fireplace, his eyes downcast, watching the flames. For the past week he had been lying about the dreams to his wife even though he once did have such vivid dreams about Pippin. The way Pippin felt in his arms as he was dying, the blood, the bruises, it had always come back to haunt him. Now, however, that horrific nightmare was replaced by one far more dreadful. It was still lingering in his mind; he could not get rid of it.

__

Merry was running hard, panting heavily with each breath, trying to avoid crashing into a tree only to have a few stray limbs lash at the flesh on his arms. The reason he was running and in such a panic was unknown, only a feeling of panic was swarming his mind. He had to return home. The trees around him disappeared now replaced with a grove alongside a tiny hobbit hole, his hobbit hole. His eyes shot to the side to view two ponies, one belonging to Mr. Brombleburr and the other to Sam. Reaching for the front door it swung open to reveal Rose rushing past him a few feet, then she sank to her knees, heaving for air. He drove on paying no heed to her, entering the shadowy home. The room was an utter mess; tables and chairs turned over, linen torn to shreds, glasses and dishes shattered. Before he could investigate he found himself in a darkened hallway. Ahead of him one of the bedroom doors was shut, a speck of light flowing from the crack. Soon echoes of moaning, crying, followed by a long mournful wail filled the hallway. The noise his Estella made caused his eyes to burn and the stinging tears sprang to his eyes. Finally, after what felt like hours, he reached the door only to have it jerk open with Sam trying to sprint out. Merry stretched his arm to him but Sam pushed him away while placing a hand over his mouth, appearing ready to vomit. He whipped his head back around to come face to face with Mr. Brombleburr. A grim look was on the doctor's face as he slowly opened his mouth but no sound came from his throat. Merry struggled to understand what Brombleburr was trying to say but he soon gave up when the doctor moved away, giving him a view of the bed. Tangled in the midst of the sheets laid Estella, sweat glistening all over her body, mingling with the onslaught of blood that leaked from between her thighs. Gazing into her eyes, he fell to his knees as tears threatened to blur his vision. It was then that he noticed that her left eye was black and blue and swollen shut. Finger imprints ran all the way down her neck and he could see a forming bruise on her stomach through the flimsy gown. In fact, it seemed her belly had swelled beyond its normal size even for pregnancy. For a moment the room became black and sobs broke the silence, his sobs. When his vision refocused he looked back into her once bright green eyes, now dull and dim and devoid of any emotion save a few trickling tears with a glint of despair. Her mouth slid open and with a pained voice she spoke.

"I was told it was a boy Merry," she sobbed, forcing a half smile. "Our little Peregrin, Merry. Mr. Brombleburr will not hand him to me. Why will he not hand my little Peregrin to me, Merry?" More tears weld in her eyes. "I can only hear your sobs and mine, why can I not hear his?"

Then there were no more tears, no more movements from her battered body. In the corner of his eye he could see a tiny bundle at the edge of the bed. A small, bloodied hand hung out the crack of the blanket. 

Back in reality Merry opened his eyes, rubbing at them until it felt as if they would turn raw. It was one thing to dream of his wife dying in childbirth but her overall ragged, beaten appearance confused him. It made no sense.

'Oh, what am I worrying about?' Merry thought. 'It is only a dream; it means nothing. I'm just frightened about Estella's pregnancy. What husband wouldn't be? I suppose I shouldn't fret over that. I know she will be alright. Mr. Brombleburr already gave her a checkup and says she is in full health.'

Rising up from the chair he strolled down the hall, entered the bedroom, and snuggled between the sheets with Estella's back against his chest. He sighed in the nape of her neck and wrapped his arm around her belly protectively.

The next day Merry woke to the smell of warming cinnamon and frying butter. He lazily dragged himself out of bed and strolled into the kitchen. There stood his Estella pulling a pan of fresh bread from the oven. Cocking a smile he came from behind, latched his arms around her stomach, and lightly kissed her neck. Estella produced a high pitch squeal, nearly dropping the pan on the floor.

"Oh you devil!" Estella yelled, swatting at his hands. "How many times have I told you not to do that?!"

"Hm, how many times have I told you not to exert yourself baking for me in the kitchen?" Merry snickered.

"Hm, and how do you know that this here bread is for you?" Estella chuckled.

"Because I am the only hobbit that could steal your heart," Merry cooed.

"There were many hobbits that could steal my heart," Estella said, "but you were the cutest one so the choice was a bit obvious."

Merry gave a hearty laugh. "What do you have to drink that can wake this hobbit up? How about some good old Buckland ale?"

"No, no, there will no ale for you dear Merry," Estella chided. "The last thing you need is to be drunk so early in the morning."

"Humph, you allowed me to have ale in the morning on our honeymoon," Merry pouted.

"Well, we were naive newlyweds then sweetheart," Estella said. "From here on you shall survive with milk, juice, or tea."

"Ah, very well," Merry sighed. "I will be leaving soon anyway. I want to leave early to see Mr. Brombleburr. My luck he will gone when I reach his home."

"Now, why do you want to see him?" Estella asked. "He already gave me a checkup and said everything was fine. You are worrying yourself far too much."

"I just want to have a quick chat with him that is all," Merry said. "While I am gone I want you take it easy. I do not want you straining yourself while over working."

"Would you please stop fretting about me?" Estella growled. "I thought it was cute eight months ago but now it is just becoming annoying."

"Alright Estella," Merry said, kissing her cheek. "I will be heading out now. See you later dear."

"Oh, wait, you did not taste....the bread," Estella groaned, watching Merry bolt out the door. "He always does that when I bake. I wonder what his problem could be?" 

Taking a pony from the barn, Merry saddled up and trotted down the trail occasionally turning his head back to wave at Estella's diminishing form. An hour passed before he finally reached Brombleburr's house and riding up he noticed a young girl, Brombleburr's daughter, sweeping the steps. As he rode up the hobbit looked up at him in surprise but smiled nonetheless. 

"Oh, good morning Mr. Brandybuck," Peony said. "I was not expecting to see you at my father's door so early in the morning. Is there anything I can help you with?"

"Yes, I wish to speak to Mr. Brombleburr," Merry replied. "Is he in?"

"I am sorry but my father is busy with other appointments," said Peony. "Do you have a message for him?"

"No, I will stop by later," Merry sighed. "How have you been Peony? I have not seen you or your sister, Poppy, in these parts for a while."

"She and I have been at our Aunt Pearl's for the last year," Peony replied. "Father thought it would be best to have a female influence since mother passed at such a young age. I just returned for a bit to help father maintain his house. Poppy got married a year ago to Nad Smallburrow, did you not know? The news was spread almost all over the shire but I suppose you have been busy and all with your adventure, that tragedy with Pippin, and your wife Estella being pregnant. Although, it is not any of my business of your wife's condition."

Merry's eyebrow cocked. "I thought you of all people would know about that. After all, you are quite renown for your gossipy nature Ms. Peony."

"Aye," Peony squeaked, blushing, "but father dear will not tell me. Something about how it is not proper to talk about patients without their consent. How is dear Estella?"

"She is as fine as she can be," Merry answered. "The baby is due any day now."

"Humph, that is not a lot to go by," Peony pouted, but seeing Merry's look made her let it go. "By the way, did you know that Poppy had a wee babe three weeks back? A real shame though, the baby suffers from the fever. Father did all he could do but it does not look good. My poor, dear sister. She really had her heart set on a baby and she loved this one dearly. It will truly tear her apart if the baby passes."

"I am sorry to hear that," Merry said. "I hope it turns out for the best."

"As do I," Peony sighed. 

"I think your father would want you back at work Peony," a voice said. "I have already cleaned the stove for you and have coated my jacket with soot."

"Jacob Delvewater," Merry growled. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah, Merry Brandybuck," Jacob sneered. "Mr. Brombleburr asked that I be here if you must know. It is not safe for a fair lass to remain home alone these days. Have you not heard of the recent robberies down in Hobbiton?"

"Robberies?" Merry asked.

"Yes, quite an outbreak of them," Jacob replied. "They say a group of men are going about looting homes instead of staking out the paths now. None of it has turned deadly yet, all the hobbits were out thank goodness, but the year is young."

"Jacob, I thought King Elessar decreed that no man may enter the Shire," Peony said.

Jacob snorted. "Since when do men listen to a decree? Men do whatever they please no matter what the law may be. It will take more then a piece of paper to keep them out. Such a shame too. They say the robberies are moving back up to Crickhollow. What a disaster it would be if that entered our peaceful area."

"Jacob it already did," Peony hissed. "Remember?"

"Oh, yes, Pippin," Jacob said. "I am sorry to hear about your loss." 

"Yes, I'm sure you are," Merry growled, gripping the reins until his knuckles turned white.

"By the way, how is Estella doing?" Jacob asked. "I hear she is with child. A fine hobbit lass such as she will be a wonderful mother. Very pretty....."

"Jacob, I think there is another stove that needs cleaning in there," Peony said, noticing the tint in Merry's eyes. "Could you go take care of that please?"

"Oh, whatever you wish Peony," Jacob replied. "Good to see you again Merry and in such perfect health."

"Likewise," Merry snarled.

"Well, I will tell father you dropped by when he returns," Peony chuckled. When Jacob vanished behind the door Peony stepped closer to Merry. "Just between you and me, why is there so much tension between you and him?"

"Let's just say we never did get along very well as children," Merry sighed, steering the pony away.

"You do not talk much do you?" Peony growled.

"Not to you Ms. Peony, not to you," Merry chuckled. "Good day to you, Ms. Peony. It is such a beautiful day, I think I will ride for a bit or perhaps drop by Sam's."

"I will give father the message!" Peony called.

Merry took off down the trail, vanishing behind the trees.

More to follow.


	2. A Dark Morning

****

Warnings: Violence

Estella sat next to the fireplace, reading intently while occasionally glancing out the window in hopes of seeing Merry's form. Four hours had passed since his departure and already she was growing restless. Sighing, she spun the heart pendent around her neck. Lifting it up she gazed at the engravings.

__

To Estella, my everlasting love, Merry.

Tired of her seat she stood, placed her book down, and headed for the door. When she opened it a gentle breeze carrying a sweet scent grazed across her face. Her ears suddenly perched when she heard something galloping in the distance. Thinking it was her returning husband, Estella strode across the lawn to come into view of the trail. The smile faded on her face. There were three shapes moving toward and the closer they came the bigger they got. Fear swarmed in Estella's mind and she instantly ran back into the house, instinctively locking it. Then, she could hear three horses pull alongside the home and the sound of stomping feet followed.

"Well, I suppose this is as good a place as any," a man said. "I only hope whomever lives in here has something worth taking, unlike the rest of the lot."

"They are halflings," another growled. "They value nature, love, food, not wealth."

"Aw, listen to him Haridur," the man chuckled. "Briggs is becoming soft on us."

"Silent, both of you," Haridur ordered. 

Estella pressed her ear to the door, trying to make out their conversation. As she did so her foot slid across the floor accidentally nicking a pebble, causing it to strike the door. The sound sent a chill down Estella's back and her face quickly flushed with heat and sweat.

"I thought I heard something in there," Haridur snarled. "No matter I suppose. If anyone is in there I can deal with them."

The hobbit didn't wait to hear anymore. She took off down the hallway until she reached the bedroom. Lowering herself to the floor, Estella crawled under the bed and opened a small trap door. She lowered herself under the floorboards and closed the latch behind her. By this time the men were pounding on the door and it soon gave, echoing a loud crash as it finally fell. Three sets of footsteps followed, each separating, taking a different section of the house. One set strolled down the hall before cautiously entering the bedroom. As the man came near her Estella crawled away, unwittingly heading into the kitchen area. She clasped her hands over her ears as the house was torn apart; furniture being thrown everywhere, dishes smashing against the floor, and the dreaded sound of something being shredded to bits.

"Argh, there is nothing of value here!" a man hissed. "A complete waste of our time! We should have headed to Bree! There is always something of worth there!"

"And risk being caught you fool!" Haridur snapped. "There is a higher chance of being found out in a town then romping around a wooded area. Besides, the punishment at the hands of men is far worse then at the hands of halflings. The halflings would never catch us. They never did when we left that little fellow in the rain."

'Pippin,' Estella thought. 'Oh no.....'

The safe hiding place was now turning against the hobbit. The dust and mold was pungent and Estella's nose was soon tingling. It developed to a burning itch and all the wriggling she did would not alleviate it. She plugged her nose until the feeling passed, allowing her to let go. Estella's head jerked as the feeling came back and before she could cover her nose, a sneeze came from her.

"Did you hear that?" Haridur asked.

"I heard nothing," Briggs said. "No doubt you are imagining things."

"I definitely heard something," the other said. "Briggs must be losing his hearing."

"I think I heard it coming from over here," Haridur said, pacing away from Estella's location.

The hobbit sighed in relief as he moved away. Trying to take advantage of the opportunity, Estella crawled in direction of the front for underneath it was a trapdoor that led to the outside. She unhooked the latch and cautiously slid her head above the crack to view the men inside. Two of the men were pacing back and forth in the kitchen and when they disappeared from view Estella rose up from the trap door. Running hard, she took off for the path occasionally looking back to see if she was being followed. As she turned her head back around she caught a glimpse of tall, shadowy figure in front of her. Before she could stop herself she collided with the shape, immediately falling to the ground. There was no time to scramble away as a rough hand grasped her by the scruff her neck, pulling her up. Estella was in too much shock to put up a fight as the man dragged her back to the house. Fear and panic spread in her body as she saw one of the men waiting at the door. The man holding her tossed her over to him, whom caught Estella by the throat, deathly close to strangling her. Estella struggled desperately against the grip, glaring at the man holding her in midair while the other let out a cruel laugh. One of the men stared down at the floor, appearing sullen.

"Hm, what have we here, eh?" Haridur laughed. "Looks like we found a little mouse trying to scurry away." 

A twinkle of metal around Estella's neck caught his attention. He pulled at the chain to reveal a gold heart with a ruby embedded in the middle, ignoring the heartfelt words engraved on the back. 

"Halflings care not for wealth, eh Briggs?" he growled. 

Estella gave a sharp yelp as Haridur snapped the chain from around her neck. Laughing, he tossed the necklace over to one of the men who placed it in a pouch.

"Take it outside and wait there," Haridur ordered. When the man left he turned his attention back to Estella. "Anything else in this household worth taking halfling?"

"Nothing you would find of value," Estella spat.

"That is quite the shame then," Haridur sighed. "I become so disappointed when I only obtain a small trinket such as a worthless necklace. And when I become disappointed I turn angry, if you get my meaning. There has to be something else in this house. Money, other jewelry, anything, you better tell me now."

"I already told you," Estella snapped, "there is nothing that you would find of value here!"

"Do not raise your voice to me, you little scum," Haridur yelled, shaking her a bit.

As he shook her Estella sank her teeth into the small of his hand, hard enough to draw blood. Haridur cried out and released his hold on the hobbit, sending her falling to the floor. Even in momentary freedom she could not scurry away fast enough. The man gripped her shoulder and spun her around before slamming his fist into her eye. Estella cowered on the floor, sobbing in pain. She could feel the stinging flesh beginning to swell. The man took another step but was stopped by Briggs.

"Haridur, please, let her be!" Briggs pleaded. "For God's sake man you already have the blood of one halfling on your hands! Do not soil them with another!"

"Oh, but I have no intention of killing her Briggs," Haridur chuckled. "Pretty little lass ain't she? Too bad she is so fat, eh?"

"Do not think of that," Briggs growled. "She is pregnant and you know it. Besides, have you not done enough? You have bruised her face and any more upset could harm the little one."

"Hm, well, I think I can take care of that," Haridur sneered. 

"What?" Briggs asked, wide eyed.

Haridur hovered over Estella's form, grinning devilishly before delivering a powerful kick to her lower abdomen. She was instantly flung into the air at the force and was in so much shock that she couldn't even produce a scream. A loud thud ensued as she crashed to the wood floor, grunting in pain. Her eyes began to burn as a warm wetness ran down her legs. Ahead of her Haridur stood laughing as Briggs looked on in disgust but too frightened of his leader to help the fallen hobbit. Only when the man took another step toward Estella did Briggs over step his bounds, grasping Haridur painfully by the shoulder.

"I think you have done quite enough," he hissed. "I would not doubt that you have killed the baby."

"One can only hope," Haridur snarled, twisting loose. "These halflings are multiplying like rodents; one less in their midst will do no harm. I suggest that you not touch me again, Briggs, less you want to take an early retirement if you get my understanding." Briggs took a step back. "As I figured. You are quite the coward. If you were not skilled in thieving I would have slit your throat long ago. Now, get back outside before I change my mind."

"Yes, sir," Briggs sighed.

Reluctantly the man took is leave as Haridur bent over Estella's form. He hiked up a portion of her skirt and a wry smile formed.

"Oh, my little halfling," he snickered. "It appears as if your water has broke. I suppose birth is eminent but I think I can help with the process." Another blow struck her in the stomach, this time sending her sprawling into the wall. "Or perhaps I can help remove the little one for you by a quicker method."

Estella gazed up at the man, watching him remove his glistening blade. The horror he had planned finally dawned and she attempted to flee. The pain coursing through her body prevented her from getting far and the man was on her in an instant. She was thrown back first into the wood floor with the man's full weight atop her. His one hand snaked its way around her throat, lightly squeezing, while he used the other to nudge the sword tip into her belly, slowly. She could feel the blade starting to pierce the sensitive area along with the blood that began to trickle down. The man's wicked smile was enough alone to make her retch, seeing him take enjoyment from the agonizing torment. Her eyes gazed wildly about, trying to find a savior to spare her from this but there was no one. Any thoughts of salvation left her mind as the thought of the baby's safety flooded in. She did not know if the man intended only pierce her or impale the little one along with her. It was also a possibility that he could take the little one alive and it was that thought that sent rage through Estella's heart. No one would take her baby, especially the monster before her. She began to flay madly, swinging her nails up by the man's eyes, desperately trying to gauge him. One of the blows was a success, nailing him straight in the left eye, eliciting a yelp of pain from Haridur. Growling low, Haridur thrust the blade forward at a punishing pace. It sheathed itself deep within her gut and Estella let out a strangled cry. Smirking again, he slowly pulled the blade from her stomach, savoring her screams as the blade slid out. He rose the arm again to drive the blade deeper but a strong force knocked him from the hobbit. Estella glanced ahead to view two men fighting in the kitchen. A darkness came over her eyes before she could view the victor.

More to follow.


	3. Bring on the Rain

****

Warnings: Minor gore.

The morning had changed drastically since Merry had left. The bright, blue sky had turned gray and the birds fell silent. He steered the pony on, coming into view of Sam's housing. A smile formed on his face as he saw smoke puffing from the chimney. When he approached the door a young hobbit, who he recognized as Sam's sister, scampered out beating the dust out on a rug. She waved politely to him and resumed her chore.

"Marigold, what are you doing here?" Merry asked. "Where are Sam and Rose?"

"Oh, you just missed them," Marigold replied, never looking up. "That doctor, Brombleburr, stopped by and asked that they accompany him on an emergency run. They needed someone to watch the children so Sam asked that I do it. Most distressing now that I think on it. Apparently, there was a robbery in Crickhollow that went sour. Some hobbit was attacked and left for dead."

"Who in Crickhollow was attacked?" Merry inquired, sweat beginning to form on his brow.

"I do not know," Marigold answered. "Mr. Brombleburr would not tell us, although, he seemed very stressed on the matter of finding you. He said that if you were to stop by to give you the message to return home at once. I cannot imagine why---"

Merry never gave Marigold the chance to finish. Steering the pony around he took off at high speed down the path. The hours went by slowly and the closer he came to his home, the darker the sky became. He could soon see it in the distance.

As Merry pulled up to his home a pang of fear entered him. He could see the empty space where the door had once been, now busted off the hinges; three sets of footprints trampled in the earth; two ponies tied to the rack. The dream was almost coming to life. Merry dismounted, dashing for the entrance when Rose cut him off. Her face was pallid and weary.

"Merry...I...I...we..." she stuttered, before turning away to run to the bushes.

He darted in only to stop in shock at the sight of man, unconscious but breathing, lying on his kitchen floor. A bloodied bandage covered a wound over his abdomen and with every breath the red coloration grew darker. A soft crying caught Merry's ears. It was coming from the bedroom but it was not the voice of his wife. His eyes burned while stepping through the hall. He already knew what awaited him beyond that door. As he reached for the knob the door flew open to reveal Sam.

"Sam?" Merry whimpered, reaching for him.

Sam jerked away from Merry's hold, staggering into the hallway before collapsing against the wall. He returned his attention to the room, where he could see Brombleburr's form hovering over the bed. Merry forced his feet forward, each step feeling like deadweight. Brombleburr turned, gave him a panged glance, and moved aside. What Merry saw made his head spin. There, tangled among the bloodied sheets, lay Estella. Merry rushed over taking her in his arms, gently rocking her, her eyes half open and staring blankly. Cool air and tears brushed his neck.

"Oh, my Estella," Merry murmured. "My love, I thought you were dead. Thank goodness you are alright. Everything will be fine, dear. Everything will be fine...."

His chant soon ended at the sound of Brombleburr's voice. Merry could only look on in confusion as the hobbit shook his head. It dawned upon him then. His dear wife was not alive. The tears were nothing more then cold, stale sweat. The breaths nothing more the gusts of air from his persistent rocking. He gazed down into her eyes, dull and lifeless. His hand cupped the bruised eye, gently caressing. In a fit of anguish he pressed his lips roughly against hers in hope that it would bring her back to life. Soon, he was trailing light kisses over her cheeks, eyes, and nose. When done, Merry looked down at her in vain, praying for any movement but none came. Tears streamed down as he buried his face in her damp curls.

"No, no," Merry whimpered. "It is not supposed to happen this way. She talked to me.....she talked to me....I will never hear her voice again...."

Merry's thoughts were interrupted as a loud squeal rang throughout the room. The baby, he had forgotten about the baby. At the foot of the bed lay a small bundle with a form flaying and screaming. A deadly thought ran through Merry. Steaming rage replaced it. Unwittingly, he moved down the bed with his arms stretched out toward the baby. Brombleburr, catching Merry's intentions, snatched the baby away.

"No Merry," Brombleburr said. "I do not think it would be wise for you to hold him until you are sound of mind."

"He is my son," Merry growled. "Give him to me at once."

"Merry, please," Brombleburr pleaded, "You are grieving....."

"I said give him to me!" Merry screamed.

Lunging forward, he lashed out trying to take the baby from Brombleburr. The other hobbit ducked and turned his back in a desperate attempt to shield the little one. He winced as Merry clawed at his back.

"Merry stop!" he yelled. "You will hurt Peregrin!"

"Peregrin...." Merry said, stepping back. "Pip...."

Shame clouded over him when he realized what he had almost done to his son, his Peregrin. 

'Gods, what am I becoming?' he thought. 'There is no excuse for my behavior. What would Estella think? What would my dear cousin think?'

His back hit the wall and he slumped to the floor clutching at his hair. Sighing, Brombleburr left the room with the little one in his arms. Merry gathered himself up from the floor and slid next to his wife's still form. There, he wrapped his arms around her waist and snuggled his cheek against her cold neck, weeping bitterly. Hours passed before he was seen in the kitchen. Sam and Brombleburr were waiting for him, watching his every step. He seemed strangely calm, no emotion, only tear stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. A low whimper drew his attention, causing him to move over to the fallen man. Blind rage was swelling in him once again. Uneasiness swept over Sam, watching Merry kneel before the man.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my home?" Merry snarled, glaring into the man's eyes. "Were you the one that beat and stabbed my wife?"

"No, no!" the man cried, avoiding Merry's eyes. "I swear I never harmed her!"

"You are lying," hissed Merry. 

The hobbit drew out the tiny blade sheathed at his belt. A startled gasp came from the others as Merry brought the blade to the man's throat, slowly pressing it in. Sam slowly rose from his seat.

"No, no I swear that I speak the truth!" the man wailed, tears seeping from his eyes.

"Liar," countered Merry.

"Please," he stuttered pitifully, "please give me a chance to explain!"

"A chance?" Merry asked, a mocking tone in his voice. "Why do you deserve such a chance?! My wife never had a chance!"

Before he could slice the man's throat a hand grasped his and pulled him back. When he spun around he came face to face with Sam. The hobbit looked upon him sternly and tightened his hold, but Merry would not yield. 

"Merry, put the sword down," Sam said, his demeanor softening. "When Brombleburr and I arrived we found him tending to Estella the best he could, even with his gut wound. If it weren't for him little Peregrin would not be breathing."

Merry scowled, throwing down his sword. "If you are not the one who touched my wife then who did?"

"Haridur Pits and Delton Granggle," the man coughed. "I am known as Briggs. I worked with the two robbing paths and recently, homes in the Shire. Sir, if I had known your wife was home I would have done everything in my power....."

"What did they take?" Merry asked.

"What?" Briggs stuttered, wide eyed.

"What did they take, that was worth so much, that my wife had to pay with her life?" Merry inquired.

"A gold pendant from around her neck," Briggs whispered.

"That is it?" Merry laughed. "You barge into my home, demolish it, only find a golden necklace, and decide that is not enough, so you torture my pregnant wife?!"

"I tried to stop him!" Briggs screamed. "I tried! I tried! I saw him in the kitchen hovering over her with his sword, pulling it out of her belly. I tried to fend him off but he was a better fighter than I. He left us both for dead. None of the robberies had ever turned fatal except for the one eight months ago...."

"What did you just say?" Merry snapped.

"We robbed a hobbit going through the trails eight months ago," Briggs replied. "Haridur beat him badly and left him to die out in the wilderness. I heard he was found, and lived for a bit. I feel nothing but remorse for the hobbit that found that mess...."

"You are looking at him," Merry growled. "That hobbit you left to die was my cousin."

"He....was a relative? I...I...I am so sorry," Briggs sputtered. "Oh....oh Gods. Your wife....now your wife...." 

The man turned his head and vomited. Merry turned away in disgust, looking down at his hands. The blood of his wife was all over his flesh, now dried and crusted over. Wincing, he wiped at his shirt vigorously to remove it but to no avail. He walked toward the opening, something catching his eye; the man could be dealt with later. Outside the sky had grown dark and in the distance the thunder boomed as the lightening cracked. Rose hustled by him, thoroughly drenched, into Sam's arms. He walked out in the rain, ignoring the pleas and rants behind him. This seemed familiar to him; he had done it before. His thoughts ran back and forth. Pippin. Estella. Pippin. Estella. The weight of anguish brought him to his knees, forcing him to the mud. He lay down on his side, embracing the cool earth and the damp wetness around him. His hands clenched, his eyes hardened, and he came to a realization: he could cry no more.

"Merry?" Sam murmured, gazing outside.

He jumped back as Merry stalked through the opening, muddied and wet. Overall stone faced, there was a glint in Merry's eyes that sent a shiver down Sam's spine. Not saying a word, Merry bent down to pick up his sword and sheathed it. He glared back down at Briggs.

"Where are the other two headed?" Merry asked.

"Bree," Briggs answered.

"Thank you, for what little help you have provided," Merry curtly said. "I do not wish for your blood to stain my hands. I only want the one that touched my wife...and my cousin. No doubt you will pay dearly when you pass into the next life."

"Indeed, I deserve whatever punishment awaits me," Briggs sobbed, spew dripping from the sides of his mouth. "I am sorry...."

"Save your breath," Merry hissed. "Apologies mean nothing to me right now."

"Merry, wait, where are you going?" Sam inquired, trying to grab his friend's arm.

Merry shook his hand off. "To Bree."

"To Bree? Why?" Sam asked.

Once he reached the doorway, he turned to look back. "Retribution."

Merry left his friend wide eyed, mounting the nearest pony and took off in the pouring rain. All too late did Sam run after him.

"Merry wait, wait!" he cried. "You cannot go to Bree alone it is too dangerous! Come back! Please, at least come back for your son's sake!"

But Merry could not hear Sam's words. His form disappeared in the gray haze.

More to follow.


	4. Retribution

****

Warnings: Violence and slash themes (not M/P).

The wind smacked against Merry's face, tearing the hood from the side of his face, exposing his flesh to the bitter cold. He didn't move to place the cloth back over him; he didn't care. More then three hours had passed since his departure and there was still a long way to go. The distance mattered not to him, as long as he reached Bree and found what he sought. He spurred the pony harder, harder yet when a memory came flooding back into his mind.

"Pippin, I have to know....who did this to you?" Merry asked. "Who beat you and left you to die in the woods?"  
  
"I will not tell you," Pippin said. "If I were to state the names of the men who caused my death you would somehow try to seek revenge. Even as I lay dying on the bed I often thought of ways to make them suffer. As I came close to oblivion I realized that even if I had the chance what would it prove? What would it prove to you dear Merry? What would you have done to them?"

"I would have what was done to you done to them!" Merry snarled. "Men like that do not deserve to live!"

"And tell me Merry would it comfort you watching them suffer and die?" Merry became silent. "Perhaps it would bring you momentary joy but what about after? Their deaths would not bring me back to life. That is the curse of revenge Merry, it is bittersweet."

"But they still live while you do not!" Merry screeched.

"Their time will come," Pippin replied. 

"Not soon enough," Merry grumbled.

'No, not soon enough,' he repeated. 'I am sorry Pippin. I know you would not approve. I know you would not want this but I have no choice now. They took you away from me Pippin; they took my Estella away and nearly claimed the little one as well. I will not let them live to laugh about this atrocity. Men like that deserve to rot for all eternity. I will make the two of them pay.....even if it means sacrificing my own life.'

Merry gasped as warmth swarmed into his body. Once before he had felt it, a comforting force, but it felt awkward. There was no comfort now, only uneasiness and shame.

'How can you speak of such a thing?' a nagging voice asked. 'You have a son waiting for you at home, fool! Push aside your own selfishness and think of his future! Who will care for him if you were to fall?'

'Sam will care for little Peregrin,' Merry thought, 'if the unthinkable were to happen.'

'Would Estella want that?' the voice pressured. 'Please, turn the pony around and go back home. Please, do not become another victim for those men. Please, this is not the way to handle this situation. You are angry and not thinking clearly. You are no match for them in this condition. Go back now you fool!'

'If I am to die those men will surly join me,' Merry hissed. 'I can promise you that much. I am sorry, Pippin. Forgive me, but I am not turning back and your words cannot persuade me.'

Merry rode on, the warmth seeping out of his body leaving him hollow and cold. So cold, so empty. He could have sworn hearing the wind cry.

***

Within the village of Bree a new lodging stood erect, distanced from the other buildings, at the edge of the wooded area. It was known as The Twin Dragons; notorious for housing thieves, ruffians, and other colorful characters of society. Hobbits of the town knew all too well to stay clear. Men of the lodging had a knack for yanking stray hobbits from the streets, pinning them to a wall, and using the poor creatures as target practice with any available sharp object. It was a rowdy place and that night was no exception. Only minutes after the darkness crept over the land chairs flew through windows, which were soon accompanied by bodies. Two horses pulled up to the building and the men tied them to the rack. Laughing cheerfully, the two stepped over the disheveled bodies. Shouts of welcome echoed as the two opened the door.

"Hello fellas!" one of the men snickered. "You would not believe the day my friend and I had."

"Hey, where is the third in your party?" a man inside asked.

"He decided to take my offer up on early retirement," the man chuckled. "That can be saved for later. I met the most interesting halfling lass today......"

At the opposite end of town a small pony entered through the gate. Merry's head was low as he traveled through the mud road. It had been a long, hard ride. He stopped for nothing, not even for food, though he had not eaten a morsel in twenty-four hours. He made his way up the path until he came upon a familiar sign, aptly returned to the full original name, The Prancing Pony. Dismounting, he secured the steed and entered the lodging. Twice, he was nearly knocked over while trying to make his way to the desk. Ignoring the people yelling around him, Merry shoved through, immediately coming upon Butterbur.

"Well, hello there little sir!" Butterbur chirped. "I did not expect to see you back here so soon!"

"It has been a year Mr. Butterbur!" Merry said. "I hardly call that soon!"

"Oh, a year?" Butterbur inquired. "It certainly has gone by fast hasn't it? I heard you have yourself a little a wife now and a wee one on the way. How are the two dears doing?"

Merry choked. "They are fine. I need to know Mr. Butterbur; did you see two men enter this area?"

"Not that I can remember," Butterbur said, rubbing his chin. "Perhaps Nob saw something. Nob! Come here!"

"Yes sir?" the hobbit asked, putting down a tray.

"Have you seen any strange men enter this part?" Butterbur asked.

"The only ones I can think of were the two heading for The Twin Dragons," Nob answered. "Oh, they looked like the mean type if you understand me. Something about those two sent chills up and down my spine. I could tell they did not seem to care for me all too much. They rode on muttering about how much they despised halflings."

"Do you remember if they were carrying anything that would not seem ordinary for a man to obtain?" Merry asked.

"Yes, not that you mention I did see something!" Nob replied. "One of them was brandishing a gold heart pendant like a trophy. I thought it was pretty peculiar."

"Thank you for your help," Merry said. "Where is The Twin Dragons located?"

"At the edge of town," Butterbur said. "Why do you need to know that?"

Merry pushed back into the crowd, heading for the door.

"Wait, you have just arrived!" Butterbur called. "Stay to have a bite to eat! You look famished!"

Merry ignored Butterbur, sliding out the door and untying his pony. Once he mounted he steered the pony in direction of the lodging. Men passed by, stopping to glance at him and then the place where he was heading. They sneered, and turned away. As he approached the sign of the two dragons entwined together blew roughly in the wind. The nagging voice was returning, telling him to turn around. He moved on, dismounting from the steed and letting it roam aimlessly. His left hand grasped the sword while the free one slowly pushed open the door. He was greeted with the smell of ale and a pungent stink. Most of the men ignored him, far to drunk to lift themselves from their seats, while others just stared in bewilderment. Merry heard laughter in the corner and he turned to view two men standing near a table full of men. One of them was waving a gold pendant around in the air. Even at a distance he could tell it was the same heart he had given to Estella on the night of their wedding. He moved toward them, intently listening.

"So, where did you find that Haridur?" a man inquired. "I assume you did not pluck it from the roadside."

"Indeed, I did not," Haridur chuckled. "I tore it off the neck of pretty little halfling." 

The men gave such a hoot and cheer that a sickness swelled in the pit of Merry's stomach. His hand gripped the sword painfully, the butt digging in his flesh.

"Well, did you have any fun with her?" another asked.

"No, how could I?" Haridur sighed. "The lass was pregnant but I think I took care of that problem." Another cheer from the men. "You know how it is. Those halflings are humping each other like mutts in heat. Pretty soon the whole of Middle-earth will be covered with them. That is the last thing we need..."

"Oh, you prattle on too much!" a man yelled. "What did you do to the halfing?"

"I shoved my sword into her round belly that's what I did!" Haridur snickered.

Merry's face reddened, so much laughter ringing in his ears. He drew closer.

"And I would have cut the little one from her womb if Briggs had not gotten in my way!" Haridur snapped. "But I took care of him, didn't I Delton?"

"Yes, most certainly!" Delton laughed. "Made a fine mess out of his gut you did but I think I like what you did to the lass much better!"

More laughter. It was driving Merry into frenzy. 

"I--"Haridur began. The man shifted, glancing down at the floor toward Merry. "Well, looks like we have a halfling in our midst gentlemen." The men turned glaring down at him. "Who might you be?"

"I am Merry Brandybuck," he replied coldly. "Husband to Estella, the one you killed today, and cousin to Pippin Took, the one you killed eight months ago."

Haridur smiled down at him, no remorse what so ever on his face. "Well, that is quite a loss you have gone through. If you don't mind my asking, where were you this morning? A responsible husband would have never left a pregnant wife alone."

Merry's face tightened, twisting in rage.

"Too bad your cousin had to die so soon," Haridur growled. "I had some unfinished business with him. He left quite the nasty scar on my thigh. Then again, I can always take up my problems with you. No, I will not kill you, right away anyway. I don't see why we cannot have a little fun with you. Why don't we put him up on the table men?"

Slowly, the men rose from their seats advancing toward the hobbit. Merry drew out his sword and slashed wildly at the approaching men. Not expecting an armed hobbit, the men retreated at once in fear. Merry took the opportunity make a mad dash for Haridur. He almost reached him too, but someone from behind grasped him, flung him on the table, and pinned his arms. Another hand tore the sword away from his hands.

"Feisty one isn't he Haridur?" Delton sneered, holding him down snuggly.

"He most certainly is!" Haridur laughed. "Aw, do you miss your wife little halfling? Perhaps I could turn you into my little bitch. Would that make things better for you? Spend a night with me little one and I will make you forget you ever had a wife."

The men let out a loud ring of laughter as Haridur bent over, licking the side of Merry's face. The hobbit thrashed madly, desperately trying to kick the man in the face but someone grabbed his legs. Haridur chuckled before pressing his lips against Merry's. Disgust ran through his stomach and he briefly opened his mouth to wrap his teeth around the man's lips. A strangled cry came from Haridur as Merry pierced his lips with sharp incisors. The man stepped back, grasping at his bloodied lips, eyes wide in shock.

"So, you like it rough little one?" Haridur snarled. "Good. Flip him on his stomach."

"What?" Delton asked. "I thought you were just going to play with him."

"I am going to play with him," Haridur snarled. "Now, place him at the edge of the table face first."

Delton hesitantly complied, shifting Merry over to his stomach, pressing his face into the wood. Haridur placed his hands on Merry's waist, yanking on his pants.

"Hey, now! None of that!" the barkeep yelled. "I am trying to run a business here! Good people eat off that table and I will not have you sully it for a minute's worth of fun! If you are so intent on taking your crotch on a joyride I suggest you use one of the vacant rooms upstairs. You can do whatever you like to the halfling up there, I care not. Just be certain to keep the screams to a minimum and try not to make too much of a mess. Bloodstains do not come out of sheets you know. Oh, and make sure you dump whatever is left of him in a secure area. I do not want it known that his death took place here."

Haridur gave a hearty smile. "Very well. Come, Delton, let us take our fun upstairs."

Before the two could get a good hold on him, Merry shot his foot back, nailing Haridur below the waist. The man fell back grunting in pain, giving Merry the opportunity to slide under the table toward his sword. He took the blade in his hands and immediately darted after the first man in sight, Delton. Taken back in fear and unable to unsheathe his sword, Delton bolted for the front door screaming. Merry gave up on him and turned his attention back to Haridur. He was the one Merry wanted. The man was kneeling to the floor, panting.

"Get out your sword," Merry growled. "Even if you are scum I will not attack an unarmed man."

"And if I do not little one?" Haridur asked. "Will you still kill me?"

Merry did not move. "Get your sword."

"I think not," Haridur replied. "Why don't we talk more about your wife? She made the most delightful screams you know. I suppose I cannot blame her though. After all, it must hurt having a blade slowly sink through your flesh into your tender organs."

Sweat formed on Merry's brow.

"Hm, the way she screamed as I removed the sword was even better. I especially enjoyed the soft, squishy sound as the blade slid from her flesh. The way her blood emptied to the floor, starting off as light rose red before turning a deep crimson. It was quite the sight. You really should have been there to witness it."

Merry's body began to sway; he felt nauseous. 

"Too bad Briggs had to ruin everything. I would have gutted her you know. I was planning on pulling her intestines out and wrapping them around the room like vines. Wouldn't that have been a sight for sore eyes? Maybe I would have cleaned her out completely. Leave her nothing but a hollow carcass. I bet that would be something fun to look at." 

"Be quiet," Merry hissed, a threatening tone in his voice. He was fighting a losing battle and he knew it. Even if the person before him was a monster, he was unarmed; he could not attack a defenseless man. That would make him no better then man kneeling in front of him.

"Of course, the baby would have been a problem. I wonder how long it could have lasted if it were violently ripped from its mother's womb. How long do you think the babe would have lasted? Is the babe still alive?" Seeing the look on Merry's face made Haridur chuckle low. "So, the baby is still alive. A real fighter I must admit. After all, his dear mother did go through a traumatic experience. Perhaps, after I have finished with you, I can pay the little one a visit. Maybe even take your place as his father. Have a real man bring him up."

Hearing that drove Merry over the edge. He leaped forward, slamming the butt end of the sword across Haridur's cheek. A sickening crunch filled the air as the man's cheekbone shattered. Instead of crying out in pain Haridur laughed and continued to laugh as Merry repeatedly beat him. Rage clouded over Merry's vision and a smile actually formed. He rained powerful blows all over Haridur's body and brought the tip down; ready to slice the man to pieces when he suddenly stopped. The man was completely at his mercy but he felt sick. He had been taking enjoyment in another's pain. This was not what he wanted. Haridur's demeanor took a drastic change. 

"Please, do not kill me," he whimpered, groveling.

Merry raised his sword again. The men in the lodgings were in so much shock that none could move to come to Haridur's aid. It would be so easy to take his life right there but he couldn't bring the sword down. No, how could he? The man was a teary wreak, sobbing and whining pleas, a very pitiful sight.

"You are not worth my time," Merry muttered. "Why soil my hands with the blood of a coward? No, I will not kill you but only because you bear no weapon. I do not know what you did with it but be thankful you lost it for that and that alone saved your life."

The hobbit turned his back, slowly heading toward the door. An evil sneer formed over Haridur's face as he drew out a small dagger from his boot. Screaming a curse, he lunged forward. Merry turned to view the man descending upon him and he remained still. Haridur brought the dagger up, took one final step, and plunged it down near the hobbit's chest. Merry was faster though. Easily, he dodged the blow sliding past the man and ramming his blade into the man's gut. A startled gasp came from Haridur as he looked down at the sword imbedded in his stomach. Haridur dropped to his knees, wiping the trail of blood that oozed from his mouth. Merry bent down, picked up the dagger, and cautiously stalked over to Haridur.

"Well, it appeared as if you were armed after all," Merry said. "That is very unfortunate for you."

Merry rammed the dagger through the man's throat. Haridur gurgled, blood gushing everywhere, and fell to the floor. As he choked, still quite alive, Merry grasped the blade in his belly and very slowly slid it out. The man's mouth fell open in pain and he moved no more. Sheathing the sword, Merry walked away from the body. There was no joy in this occasion, no happiness, only emptiness. Men rushed over to Haridur's fallen form but made no effort to stop his killer. Merry stopped dead in his tracks when he came upon an object glittering in the light. Estella's necklace. Catching a sob in his throat, he bent to pick up the pendant, reading the words engraved on the back.

__

To Estella, my everlasting love, Merry.

He placed the necklace in his pocket and journeyed back to the entrance. The door flew open revealing a tiny mass huddled in a cloak. For the first time, Merry gave a faint smile.

"Hello Sam," he said. "I did not expect to see you here."

"I told you," Sam said. "I would not let you come to Bree alone. Better late then never I suppose."

"Excuse me Sam," Merry sighed, "but I must go after the last man. I managed to take care of Haridur but Delton eluded me. He went running out the door before I could catch him."

"Well, I suppose you won't have to worry about him anymore. Apparently, he was wanted for other things besides robbery. Some of the town's folk immediately recognized him when he came running by and a lynch mob formed. I tried to stop them but it was no use. If you wish to see his body it is hanging from the tree in the village square."

"No, I think I have seen enough death for one night," Merry murmured.

"Come then, we will spend the night at Mr. Butterbur's," Sam said, grasping Merry's shoulders. "You are in no condition to return home tonight. Do not fear about your son. He is in safe hands with Rose and Brombleburr. Come, you need food and rest."

The two slipped out of The Twin Dragons into the night air. The rain had ceased and the clouds parted from the sky releasing the twinkling stars. Merry glanced up at them and sighed. He had completed his task but felt unsatisfied.

More to Follow.


	5. Night

__

The night has a thousand eyes,

And the day but one;

Yet the light of the bright world dies

With the dying sun.

The mind has a thousand eyes,

And the heart has but one;

Yet the light of a whole life dies

When love is done.

Francis Bourdillon

Alone, Merry sat in the hobbit lodgings at The Prancing Pony. A meal of ale and soup, untouched, lay in front of him on the table. Candlelight flickered in the background, spreading shadows all over the room. In the corner of his eye, Merry caught a glimpse of a dark figure. His head turned and he gained a clear view of the person. Stinging tears rose to his eyes. He darted from his seat, knocking the chair over, arms stretched out for embrace. Finding himself wrapped around the curtain, he realized the figure was nothing more then a figment of his imagination.

'I am losing my mind,' he thought, disentangling himself from the curtain.

There was a soft knock at the door. Merry walked to the door, opened it, and stared blankly at his friend. Sam gave a faint smile but it quickly vanished when Merry would not return it. For a few moments they stood staring at one another, not saying a word. Coughing low, Sam spoke up.

"Is it alright if I come in for a bit?" asked Sam. "The hallway is becoming a tad too drafty for me."

"I suppose you can," Merry curtly said, taking a seat at the table. "I surely cannot stop you from entering."

Sam was taken back by Merry's harshness but entered the room anyway, seating himself across the other hobbit. He stared down at the cold meal and chewed on his lips nervously.

"I think it would be wise for you to eat your meal, Merry," said Sam. "A healthy hobbit needs at least six meals a day and you have gone without any."

"I'm not very hungry right now Sam," Merry replied, shoving the food away. "I will eat something in the morning."

"Please, Merry, you need food in your belly," Sam prodded. "If you don't eat something you will grow weak."

Sweat began to form on Merry's brow; he was losing his patience. "Sam, I do not wish to eat right now. I only want to be left in peace."

"You must eat...." Sam said.

In a violent fit Merry slammed his fist into the table, spilling the ale and soup. Sam flinched and nearly toppled from his seat. A chill ran down his spine as he looked into Merry's eyes. He didn't know those eyes. Those eyes were once clear and serene, now glazed over and bloodshot. Merry's demeanor soon changed though. His eyes softened and a shadow crept along his face, seemingly wrung with pain.

"Forgive me Sam," Merry murmured, on the verge of tears. "I did not mean to frighten you, forgive me. It has been such a long day and I am so tired."

"It is understandable," replied Sam. "You have suffered far too much in one day. Try to sleep if you can, I will leave you in peace."

Sam rose from his seat and headed for the door.

"Wait, Sam," Merry called. Sam halted. "I must know, was Delton still alive when you left?"

"No, he passed shortly before I departed," answered Sam. "The damage to his organs was too great and the flow of blood would not cease. Brombleburr and I did all we could for him. Before he died he made me promise that I would give this to you." His hand slid into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small envelope. "Apparently, before we arrived to help her, Estella made Delton swear to that you would receive this. Any reason as to why she would give him this is unknown. I do not know what is in it for it is not my business. No doubt something intimate for your eyes-only. I will warn you now, there is blood at the edges whether it be his or hers I cannot wager." He put the envelope on the table. "I will leave you be now. If you need anything I will be in the room across from yours."

The door shut and Merry gazed down at the white envelope. A sob caught in his throat as he noticed bloodied fingerprints at the side of the paper. It was quite obvious whose they were. An itchy, burning sensation rose to his eyes as he took the envelope in his hands. He could smell Estella's perfume as he tore it open. His fingers dipped inside to grope for the contents. A smile formed on his face while thinking back to old times.

__

Two small hobbit boys meander around a flowing stream, occasionally kicking at the stones. One of the boys leaped onto a log and began to walk across, drawing closer to the bubbly water. The other came up behind, fidgeting nervously. 

__

"Pippin, I think you are too close to the creek," Merry squeaked. "I think you should come back."

"Oh, quite your griping," Pippin laughed. "There is no need for fear, Merry. I have a graceful, wonderful balance thank you very much."

Pippin wavered and Merry cried out as he saw his cousin begin to topple over. The hobbit suddenly laughed, whirled around, and stuck his tongue out at Merry.

"That was not funny!" Merry snapped. "You should not scare me like that! Now, get off that log and come back over here!"

"Aw, you are such ninny," Pippin sighed, hopping off the log.

"I am not a ninny!" Merry growled.

"Why not prove it?" Pippin challenged. "I bet you wouldn't walk across this log. Too scared to do it no doubt."

__

"I am not scared!" snapped Merry. "Out of my way."

Merry shoved him aside and cautiously placed his feet on the wood. The log swayed in the current nearly knocking into the grass. Biting his lower lip Merry continued to walk across, strolling over deep water. When he reached the edge he turned around smirking at Pippin. The younger hobbit scowled.

"Well, once again I have proven you wrong little cousin," Merry chuckled.

"Laugh it up while you still can," Pippin muttered.

"I--" 

Merry never finished. The log underneath him snapped, sending him reeling into the cool water. He surfaced quickly, trying to grasp what was left of the log, but the current carried him away. Every now and then he would go under, faintly hearing the distant cry of his cousin. He came back up gasping for air, crying his cousin's name, only to be dragged back under. Cold water rushed into his lungs as he sank to the sandy bottom. A feeling of hopelessness spread in him until he heard something crashing above him. A shadowy mass slipped beside him, took hold of his shoulders, and kicked back toward the surface. Once on land he panted and rolled on his side, spitting up water. Expecting to see his cousin, Merry's eyes widened in shock when he saw a young girl.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"I--I think," Merry replied. "Who are you?"

"I am Estella," she said. "I was walking through the woods when I heard your cousin screaming so I ventured over. When I reached the creek bank I saw your form slipping under water. I figured your cousin could not swim so I just jumped in after you. Speaking of which, I think he passed out."

"I am certain he will be fine," said Merry. "Where do you live and how do you know how to swim?"

"I live near Sarn Ford," Estella replied. "I am here with my parents to visit Uncle Clemmon in Crickhollow. As for the swimming, I was taught at a very young age by my mother. Not all hobbits of the Shire lack swimming skills. We practically live on the Brandywine River. My mother thought it was best to teach me since so many of the children were falling in and drowning. Perhaps I could teach you how to swim sometime."

"I think I would like that," Merry said. "Thank you, for saving my life."

"That is it?" Estella asked. "You are only going to thank me? It only seems proper to give me a reward for saving your neck."

Merry's face became flustered. "I, uh--"

Estella gave a hearty laugh. "I am kidding. Sheesh, can you not tell when someone is joking? Knowing that you are safe is reward enough." 

She sat up, intending to leave to leave, when Merry grabbed her arm. As she turned to face him, he placed something in her palm and closed her fist around it. Blushing furiously, he stepped back and ran into the brush. There, he found his cousin in wait.

"So, who is your new girlfriend?" Pippin said, sneering.

"I thought you passed out," Merry grumbled.

"I woke up in time to see that little spectacle cousin," Pippin said. "Uh, I cannot believe you like a girl."

"I do not like her," Merry snapped, gazing back over the brush.

"Then why are you watching her every movement?" asked Pippin.

"I want to see if she likes what I gave her," answered Merry.

"What did you give her anyway?" Pippin inquired, playing with his feet.

"A tiny pebble I found on the bank," Merry muttered.

"A pebble?" Pippin laughed. "You gave her a pebble? Yes, I am certain a girl will go head over heels for that Merry. What color was it?"

"It was the one I found earlier, remember?" Merry said. "It was the white pebble with the blue flame in it."

"Oh, that one," Pippin said, rolling his eyes. "Well, that makes all the difference. I'm hungry. Can we go home or do I have to sit here for an hour while you watch your girlfriend?"

"She is not my girlfriend!" Merry yelled, tackling his cousin to the ground.

The two laughed as they tickled, punched, and pinched each other.

A tear rolled down Merry's cheek as he opened his palm. In his hand sat the same pebble he had given Estella. All this time, something he thought trivial and worthless, Estella had kept it. He gazed down at the coloring, white as snow with a long branch of light blue in the middle. Rubbing the smooth surface in his palm, he remembered back to happier times. 

He could recall the first time she had taught him to swim years later; the way he panicked and held onto her like a child. The time when he and Pippin tried to help water her garden only to turn it into a miniature pond. But most of all he remembered their first kiss. Under a tree they had laid, staring up at the stars, chatting about the future. It was Estella that had made the first move, leaning over and kissing his cheek. He had turned his head, pressing his lips against hers, only to let go as an apple struck the side of his face. Pippin earned a good beating that night.

Merry couldn't help but laugh. There were so many fond memories of his dear Estella and his cousin. The happiness died within though. He had lost them both and it was a long way off before he would see them again. Tears not of pain, but of anger bathed his cheeks. It wasn't fair that he had to suffer. He deserved peace and joy and all that had been ripped away from him. The pebble fell to the floor. The table soon followed, crashing loudly, drowning out his curses. He fell to the floor wailing and clutching at his hair.

'I cannot go on like this....'

A loud knock erupted from the door but he didn't hear it.

'I cannot bear another day....'

The knock grew louder and the handle jiggled. This time a voice followed.

"Merry! Merry, are you alright?" Sam cried, pounding on the door. "Open the door! Merry? Merry, open the door this instant!"

Ignoring the plea, Merry drew out his sword. Standing up, he glared down at the blade, Areas not coated in dry blood shined in the firelight. He brought the tip around, pointing it near his belly. Sighing, he almost drove the blade through his flesh when a distant voice echoed in his mind.

__

"Promise me!" Pippin cried.

"I promise, on your heart, that I will not take my life!" Merry yelled.

Merry wavered, momentarily dropping the blade at his side. His legs buckled and he knelt to the floor weeping. The voice disappeared and Merry took the blade once again, this time pressing it against his wrists. Sharp steel slid down his flesh, cutting him open, droplets of blood spilling to the floor. Before he could dig deeper a hand knocked the blade away from him. He gazed up in fury to view Sam hovering over him with equal rage glinting in his eyes. Sam grasped him by the collar and shook him.

"What in blazes do you think you are doing?!" he screamed. "How could you do such a thing?! That was foolish! You could have killed yourself!"

"I think that was the idea," Merry growled, pushing the other hobbit away. "Get out, now."

"No," Sam snarled. "Obviously you cannot be left alone. I'm not leaving Merry."

"Get out," Merry hissed, "or I will make you leave and I do not think you will like that much."

"How could you be so selfish?" Sam asked, ignoring the threat. "A son waits for you at home and you pull something like this? Did you not ponder what might happen to him if you died?"

"I care not," Merry answered. "As far as I am concerned he can rot. It should have been him that lay dead in bed, not Estella." 

A stinging slap grazed across his face, causing him to slightly fall back. Both hobbits stared at one another in silence. Fear strode back into Sam's heart as he glanced into Merry's bitter eyes. Now, more than ever, he regretted his actions. He didn't intend for a fight to start but it looked as if he created one.

"You should not talk of your son that way," Sam murmured. "It is not proper."

Merry continued to stare at him, his brow wrinkled in the shadows. Before Sam could react the other hobbit was upon him. The two came crashing to the floor with Merry on top, pinning Sam down with his weight. Sam gave a startled cry as Merry's fist slammed across his jaw. Trying to protect himself from other blows, Sam placed his hands over his face. Hit after hit was delivered each painfully striking his arms. Sam abruptly bucked, sending Merry reeling to the floor. Merry was back up in a flash though, instantly seizing Sam by the hair. Sam tilted his head and once he gained a clear view of Merry he struck him in the nose and in the ear. Merry fell to the floor grunting in pain. For a moment Sam stood over him, waiting for the hobbit to rise up. But he pushed his anger aside and darted to his room. All Merry could do was lie on the floor staring in shock. Shame flooded through his mind when he realized what he had done. He attacked a friend.

For what seemed hours, he remained on the floor weeping bitterly. His eyes flew open as he felt soft hands groping his shoulders. Looking up, he saw Sam hovering over him. The hobbit's lower jaw had turned black and blue. Grief stricken, he latched onto Sam's neck for a crushing hug.

"I'm sorry," he cried. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry....."

"Quiet," Sam said. "It is alright. I understand. You are forgiven." Gently, he rocked Merry. "Let me see your arm." 

Obediently, he lifted his arm. Although not deep, blood was still trickling down from the slash wound. Sam took a cloth from his pocket and wrapped it around the opening before applying firm pressure.

"That is a nasty cut," Sam murmured. "We need to take you to a doctor before it becomes infected." He helped Merry to his feet. "But do not assume you are out of the woods over this issue. I can guarantee that you and I will have a lengthy discussion when we return to Crickhollow. For now, let us visit the doctor."

"Very well," answered Merry. "Is it alright if I find something? It belonged to Estella and I do not want to leave it. Do you mind if I ask you to wait outside?"

Sam gave Merry a suspicious glance but nodded. He turned and walked out the door into the hallway. Sam's face burned like fire when he heard a strangled yelp from the room. Now he realized his mistake. He ran back into the room and nearly screamed at the sight. There, before him, stood Merry holding onto the butt end of the sword while the other half was embedded in his stomach.

More to follow. 


	6. Healing Pt 1

The room spun, sending a wave of dizziness through Merry's body. A sharp pain enveloped his lower abdomen followed by a warm rush of fluid coating his hand. Still gripping the butt end, he collapsed to the floor deathly close to impaling himself. He could hear a voice yelling in the background but as he looked to find the source his vision became hazy. Everything was beginning to turn black. Strong arms hauled him into the air and out of the room. A cool, hard surface pressed against his back. A faint tearing sound followed as his shirt was removed. He could faintly hear Sam crying beside him. 

"Do something for him!" Sam wailed.

"I am doing the best that I can!" a voice shot back. "He has a gut wound! What the hell do you expect?! We'll be lucky if I can stitch him up before he dies, which isn't too far off mind you!"

"The blade did not sink deep," another voice said. "By the looks of it he only stabbed himself at the side of his belly instead of in the middle. Perhaps nothing vital was hit, I hope."

"What in the world possessed him to do this?"

Pitch black covered his eyes. Fear seeped into his mind as he realized he was no longer in the room. He could sense a presence around him. A sudden chill ran down his body. Whispers, all around him. In the distance he could see a small light and in that light stood two figures. Immediately, Merry ran toward the two but he didn't get far. Something shot out of the dark and grabbed his leg causing him to tumble. Soon, he felt several shapes grasping at his body, trying to drag him away. He struggled hard, he kicked, punched, even bit but that didn't detour the dark figures. A distant shout echoed.

"He's having a seizure! Hold his hands and feet down before he hurts himself even worse! No, do not put anything in his mouth! You want to have your finger bitten off?!"

Merry turned his head, giving the two ahead of him a pleading glance. He tried to speak but the words couldn't come out. Sharp nails sank into his flesh, tearing him, burning him. Finally, he broke free making a mad dash for the light. There, with tears streaming down his face, he fell to his knees reaching for his cousin and wife. They remained where they were, facing away from him. Even as he cried and pleaded the two would not turn to face him. The black shapes were over him once again, grasping at any visible body part, trying to drag him away. In a desperate attempt to stay where he was, Merry dug his hands into the ground bearing the pain of his fingernails beginning to snap. 

__

"How could you?" Pippin asked, still turned away. "I know you are grieving but what you have done is terrible."

Merry winced at the coldness in his cousin's voice. "I....I...I am sorry. I promise....."

__

"Hold your tongue," Pippin growled. "Today, against my wishes, you took the life of a man. I know he deserved death but you made a promise to me that you would not go after him. Also, today, you attempted to take your life. I do believe you promised not to do that either. No, Merry, keep your promises for you have a tendency to break them."

A sob rose in Merry's throat. "Please, do not leave me in the dark!" His nails screeched against the ground as he was dragged further away.

__

"I cannot help you," Pippin murmured. "You have made your decision with your actions."

"Do not abandon me!" Merry wailed. "Please! Pippin! Estella!"

Pippin spun around, his cheeks stained with tears. _"Do you think that I wish this upon you? I can do nothing for you. You have brought this upon yourself!"_

A loud screech came from Merry as one of the figures dug into the lower half of his stomach. He stretched his hand out to Pippin but the hobbit backed away. Merry's head slumped in despair but jerked back up when a hand clasped his. Estella. For a moment they remained locked together, staring into one another's eyes. A weak smile formed on her face as she caressed his cheek.

__

"I forgive you Merry," Estella said.

"I love you," whimpered Merry, pressing himself against her palm.

__

"I love you too, dear," Estella replied. "Fear not, for we will meet again someday but until your day comes....live happy." 

"No, no!" Merry wailed, holding her tightly. "I cannot do this alone! I need to be with you!"

__

"You are never alone Merry," said Estella. "I will always be with you, love. It is time for you to leave. Make sure our son has a good home."

He was roughly torn away from her. The two faded into darkness. 

*

Merry felt as if he would perish into oblivion when a light blinded him. The light dimmed and his vision returned, finding himself in a small room. A man was hovering over him waving a vial in front of his nose while he could see the other near his abdomen. Gazing about he found Sam cowering on the floor, rocking back and forth. He wanted to say something but his words were torn away from him, instead producing a scream. A sharp object punctured his flesh followed by what felt like thread. At that point he started to flay madly from the sheer intensity of the pain. It was unbearable.

"Damn it! Hold him still!" one of the men yelled. "I cannot stitch him up when he is struggling! Do something or he will tear the stitches out!"

"Hold still little one!" another cried. "We are trying to help you! I know it must hurt but attempt to lie still! I am a doctor and so is my colleague. My name is Orlin and the other is my brother Terlin. We are sewing up your wound. If you keep flaying my brother will not be able to complete his task. "

Sam moved near Merry's head, gently stroking his hands through the hobbit's hair, doing his best to comfort the hobbit. It nearly made him swoon looking into the hobbit's eyes. Both were covered in a glassy haze, showing nothing but misery, occasionally squeezing shut and producing tears. A low moan escaped his lips and he shook his head.

"Can you do nothing to alleviate some of the pain?" asked Sam.

"And what do you suppose was in the vial?" Orlin said. "The contents contained kingsfoil mixed with other herbs. It should be taking affect any time now."

The needle tore through more skin, making Merry jerk. Sam bent over whispering encouragements in his ear but the other hobbit wouldn't listen. His hips bucked, eliciting a curse from Terlin, nearly piercing Merry's belly with the needle.

"I said hold him still!" snapped Terlin. "The last thing he needs is another wound in his belly!"

"Steady on, Merry," Sam murmured. "It is almost over. The doctor doesn't have far to go. Please, relax or you are going to hurt yourself." He kissed Merry's forehead. "Calm down, please."

"Sam?" Merry muttered, barely audible. "Pippin? Estella? Please, come back to me. Do not leave me alone. Alone, please come back. Oh, pain. Pain. Pain in my stomach. It hurts so much. Please, make it stop, make it stop."

"He's becoming delirious," Orlin said. "I say, do hurry up with that stitching Terlin! I do not want the risk of him passing out again!"

"I am going as fast as I can!" Terlin growled. "Come over here and hold his feet down before he kicks me!"

"He needs something more for the pain!" Sam yelled. "The herbs you gave him aren't working!"

"I told you it was kingsfoil," Orlin said. "The herb is the strongest we have in the area. If I give him anymore there is a possibility he could overdose."

"Why isn't it working?!" Sam screeched. "Look at him!" Merry's face was pallid and his hair was drenched with sweat. "He's going to pass out from sheer pain!"

"There is nothing more I can do!" Orlin said. "I already gave him a high dose, which was far too much for a hobbit. I will not risk giving him anymore! He will have to deal with the pain for now!"

Merry continued to squirm, he couldn't help it. The agony at the hands of the needle was driving him insane. Also, the feeling of having his arms and legs held in place sent him into a panic. He looked down at his stomach and groaned. Blood was everywhere. Terlin gave one final tug of the needle and tied the thread.

"I have finished," Terlin said. The man backed away, his hands dripping with blood. "We must move him to a bed. I will not lie, he has lost a great deal of blood and I cannot tell if he has struck an organ. I will check on him in the morning, considering he survives the night. Help me with him, Orlin."

The two men gently picked Merry from the table and headed into the hallway. Sam scrambled to keep up, running by his side.

"It will be alright, Merry," Sam soothed.

Yes, deep down he knew everything would work out, even with blood still draining from the wound. No, he would not die. He would remain alive. It was his punishment and he would have to bear it. His time was a long way off.

The two men dipped him into bed and raised the covers to his chin. A soft knock alerted them and turned to view Butterbur standing in the doorway. 

"I was wondering, perhaps, if Merry would like something to eat or drink?" he asked. "I know he must be fairly weak from his.....injury...."

"No," Orlin said. "He is to have nothing in his system until mid-morning. Just a safety precaution."

"Well, if you need anything I'll be in my quarters," Butterbur said. "Don't hesitate to ask. Nob will be up most of the night too. I'm sure he'll be more then willing to help if it's needed."

"Thank you Butterbur," said Sam.

"No problem at all," Butterbur replied. "Oh, and don't fret about....Merry's.....previous room. I'm sure I can have it cleaned up and everything. The blood will hard to...forgive me. I suppose this is neither the time nor the place to discuss such a matter. There will be no charge added to your bill. Goodnight."

Butterbur left, followed by the two men. One of them stopped and spoke to Sam.

"Orlin and I will be across the hall. If something unnatural develops during the night let us know. Goodnight to you."

Once alone Sam sat at the edge of the bed. "What on earth am I going to do with you, Merry? You gave me the scare of lifetime tonight! If you weren't an adult, and injured, I'd take you over my knee!"

"Would you now?" Merry chuckled, coughing slightly.

"Humph, you know I would," Sam said. "How is your pain?"

"Better than what it was," Merry replied. "I am so cold."

"There now," Sam said, crawling next to him and rubbing his shoulders. "Does that feel any better?"

"A bit, I suppose," Merry answered. "Will you stay with me the entire night?"

"Of course I will," said Sam. "I'm not about to leave you, even if you are the stupidest hobbit in the Shire."

"Thank you Sam," Merry murmured drifting off to sleep. 

More to follow.


	7. Healing Pt 2

Merry awoke the next morning with a stinging pain in his lower abdomen. Groaning, he turned to the side to grasp a small vial from the nightstand. After taking a whiff of the contents he laid back down. The sun's rays shot through the curtains. It was going to be a clear day. Sam stirred next to him and rose stretching. He moved over to the window and drew back the curtains. Merry shielded his eyes at the intensity of the beams.

"Feeling any better?" Sam asked.

"Yes, a lot better," replied Merry. "My stomach feels tender, though, and I'm a bit weak."

"Well, that is expected," Sam said. "After all, you did quite a number on yourself last night."

"I know," Merry muttered. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"You will talk about it once we return to Crickhollow," Sam sternly added. "This is not a matter I am about to let go."

"I figured as much," sighed Merry. "I'm a bit hungry. Perhaps you could fetch me some food?"

Sam's eyebrow rose. "Oh, so I'm your servant now, eh? As far as I'm concerned you should get up and fetch it on your own Meriadoc Brandybuck, but I suppose I have no choice. The last thing I want is for you to harm yourself by merely snooping about for a meal."

Sam walked toward the door but was stopped by Orlin and Terlin. The two motioned for him to return to the bedside by Merry. Terlin lifted a portion of Merry's nightshirt to gaze at the stitching.

"Ah, a very pleasant sight indeed," he murmured. "I am amazed; you are healing quite well Mr. Brandybuck. I do believe you'll be up and about in another day or two, with precautions of course. You mustn't exert yourself or you could tear the stitching open. I also suggest that you not eat anything for at least two more hours. I do not want you upsetting your stomach so soon. Also, eat small amounts. If you gorge yourself it will only make you more sick."

"Only get up to walk about if it is extremely necessary," Orlin said. "You have lost a great deal of blood so you will be weak for awhile. Have someone to assist you at all times. My brother and I will about, working in town. If something should happen send someone out, they would find us quick enough. Good day to you. Remember, no meals for two hours."

"I also suggest that Sam help you with walking exercises," Terlin said. "It will be painful but you need to do it. Do not worry if it feels like the stitching is stretching, that is normal. Notify us if any leakage occurs."

"Yes, yes, I understand," Merry grumbled as the two men headed for the door. Once the two had vanished he turned to his friend. "Get me some food, Sam, please?"

"Now, now, you heard Terlin's orders," Sam said. "There is to be to no food in your belly for two hours."

"But.."

"Good morning sirs," Butterbur chirped, carrying a pitcher of water. "I just strolled by to see how the two of you were doing, especially you Merry. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, Butterbur, much better," Merry replied. "I am so sorry about your room. If there were any major damages to your property I will be more then willing to pay."

"I already told you that won't be necessary," Butterbur said, shaking his head. "No harm done. I must say, though, you caused quite an uproar last night and I'm not talking about your....suicide attempt. Men at The Twin Dragons were all riled up. Apparently, none had ever seen a halfling defend himself in such a manner, scared most out of their wits. There were a few, however, crying for your blood. I saw a couple of grungy fellows enter here, looking for you, but I managed to get rid of them. When you leave I suggest you travel cautiously for you have made a few enemies. I wish I could tell you a safe route to take but all have their share of dangers. Enough of that though. Is there anything I can fetch for you? Eggs, sausage, and biscuits have been made, fresh from the hearth. Perhaps I could bring you some, Merry? You are looking a bit pale."

"I would like...."

"I am sorry Butterbur but he cannot eat for another two hours," Sam interrupted. "If by then you have any left I am sure you can bring it up."

"Oh, well, would you like anything then Sam?" Butterbur asked.

"No thanks," Sam replied. "The water will do for now."

"Very well," said Butterbur. "If you change your mind you know where to find me." 

With Butterbur gone Sam slid his arms under Merry's armpits. "Come, Merry, let's do some walking." Merry's body flinched at the touch and jerked back as he was pulled from the bed. "Stop squirming or I will lose my grip on you."

"I am sorry," Merry grunted, "but it is painful. Every time I move a cramp forms in my abdomen. Can we do at a different time? Maybe later in the day?"

"We really should continue but I can tell that you are still weary from the night," sighed Sam, lowering Merry back down. "I suppose exercises could wait until mid-day."

A soft knock caused the two hobbits to gaze up. The door opened revealing Nob's form.

"Sorry to bother you Mr. Gamgee and Mr. Brandybuck but I have a letter to deliver," said Nob. "It's addressed to Mr. Brandybuck."

"Who did it come from?" Merry asked, taking the letter from Nob.

"A messenger from Gondor delivered it," said Nob. "He told me it was important that you receive it. I must return to the stables. Good day to you."

Merry opened the envelope and read silently. Sam remained next to him, watching his face for any emotion but his expression stayed stonewall. Finally, he folded the letter and placed it back. His gaze averted from Sam, staring at the wall.

"King Elessar sends his regards for my loss," Merry murmured. 

"How would he know?" Sam asked.

"He has the palantir, remember?" Merry sighed. "He must have been viewing it and saw the events. I am surprised he did not contact me sooner."

"Is that all the letter states?" inquired Sam.

Eyes downcast, Merry groaned. "I am set out in one month and meet him at Rivendell. Once there, I will accompany him to Minas Tirith."

"Wh-what?!" Sam yelled. "You have a son! How can he expect you to leave when you have responsibilities?!"

"Sam, please, we can discuss this later," Merry moaned. "Besides, you know he means well. He would not summon me unless it was utterly important. You know that."

"Forgive me," Sam sighed. "I am only worried about your welfare and your son's. How are you going to be able to journey that far with a newborn?"

"I will think of that when the time comes," said Merry. "Do not worry yourself over it."

For a moment the two remained silent.

"Sam?"

"Yes?"

"Could you get me some food?"

*

A day later Sam and Merry rode through the town square. Although still a bit frail, the two doctors had examined him and found that he was fit to ride. Merry spurred the pony to ride alongside Sam.

"I hope you are not still mad about yesterday," Merry said.

"You vomited on my new vest," growled Sam. "I knew I should not have gotten that food for you. Terlin specifically told you not to eat for two hours."

"Well, you were the one that retrieved it for me," Merry chuckled. "I never forced you to do it."

"No, you only moaned and whined until it nearly drove me insane," Sam muttered. "I had no choice but to please you to shut that mouth of yours. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to stay closed for long." 

Merry made ready to answer but something caught his eye, a tree in the middle of the square. Men, women, and children were gathered around it, gazing up. The branches creaked and swayed in the wind but a form moved in rhythm with it. A listless body dangled from a rope tied to one of the limbs. His eyes widened when the body spun around, letting him receive a clear view of the face. The eyes of the man were still open, bulging from their sockets. Dried blood had crusted down the chin where it once flowed. Black and blue marks were riddled around the neck where the rope had dug into the flesh. 

Suddenly, Merry became nauseated and immediately turned away. That, however, brought no relief for it brought back another image to Merry. The image of his wife, pale, bruised, and bloodied seeped back into his mind. Chills ran down his spine and spasms grew in his body. Merry's body tilted back and forth, close to toppling off the pony. Sam quickly stopped the ponies and pulled Merry's shaking form close to him. 

"Steady, steady," Sam whispered. "I do not want you falling off the steed."

"That man....my wife," Merry stuttered.

"Keep your eyes away from him," said Sam. Merry's head began to turn. "No, I told you not to look. Rose is expecting us to return home tomorrow morning but I do not want to risk your life. It is a long way and there are no towns in between. I need to know, Merry, are you fit for travel?" He remained silent, his eyes clenching shut. "Merry, please look at me and answer, are you sure you are ready for this journey?" 

Merry choked back a sob. "Yes, I can make it. I just...I want to go home but at the same time I do not. I cannot live in that house anymore. It would only bring back....I just can't. There is nothing left for me."

Sam glared down at him, digging his hands into Merry's shoulder. "I will not allow you talk like that. There is something at home for you Merry. A son waits for you or has his existence left your mind already?"

"I....I'm not sure if I can bear the sight of him," Merry squeaked. "Anger is still rampant within me and I am frightened that I may do something drastic."

"You...you blame him don't you?" Sam asked. "Tell me that I am wrong. You cannot possibly blame your son for these events."

"No, it is not that," Merry replied. 

Sam looked over Merry's face and sighed. "Oh, I see now. You feel as if Peregrin should be dead, not Estella."

"As shameful a thought as is I cannot help it," Merry sobbed. "Every time my thoughts turn to him, I think of that."

"You are grieving," Sam soothed. "You just want your wife back."

"I want them _both _back," Merry cried.

"Yes, I know," said Sam. "Come, people are watching. We must return home."

Merry shuddered at the word.

More to follow.


	8. Departure

(Poem written by anonymous.)

For one day the two hobbits had journeyed through the Shire before finally returning to Crickhollow. The stitching on Merry's side had begun to fall out, leaving a pink scar. Pain in his body had dwindled, giving him momentary relief but that soon changed. When the two cleared the grove Merry's house came into full view. A knot formed in his stomach at the sight. He would have turned around if Sam hadn't grabbed the reins, seeming to pick up on his intent.

"No turning back now, Merry," said Sam. "We're almost there."

A figure emerged from the door and immediately ran toward the two. Sam squinted his eyes and dismounted from the pony. He was soon tangled in Rose's arms while Merry sadly watched. Deciding to give the two privacy, he rode on to the house. Once he dismounted Merry entered through the door, now fixed. The inside had been cleaned but the surroundings felt unfamiliar. As he stood a warm hand wrapped around his shoulder.

"Merry, it is good to see you back," Brombleburr chirped. "I want you to know that your son was well taken care of."

"How...how have you been feeding Peregrin?" Merry asked. "I mean, with my wife gone he has no milk and cows cannot substitute."

"My daughter, Poppy, has been looking after him," Brombleburr replied. "Her newborn, my dear grandson, passed on yesterday. I could not save him from the fever. When Poppy learned that your little one was without sustenance she was more then willing to provide it. I will admit, however, that I was not and am still not thrilled with the idea. It is quite clear that she and her husband, Nad, have become very attached to Peregrin. A great heartache she will surely suffer when she has turned him over to you."

"Where are they now?" inquired Merry.

"You will find them in the bedroom," Brombleburr answered. "I hope you are not too angry with them using your bed but it was the only available one. Nad is with her, just to warn you ahead of time."

Merry strode down the hallway, hanging his head low. When he came to the door he gently nudged it forward a bit. Through the crack he could see Poppy lying in bed, cradling Peregrin, while Nad sat next to her. The scene made him smile. He had imagined looking exactly like that with Estella. Pushing the rest of the door opened he stepped into the room. The couple jumped, startled at his presence.

"Good day to you Mr. Brandybuck," Poppy squeaked.

"Good day to you too, Poppy, Nad," Merry nodded. "I see you have my Peregrin. May I hold him?"

"He is your son," Poppy said. "There is no need to ask."

Poppy stretched out her arms, inviting Merry to take the baby. Peregrin let out a tiny whine as the hobbit loomed over him. Merry glanced into her eyes, noting the look of pain and desperation in the hazel orbs. She really was attached. Peregrin immediately wailed when placed in his arms, causing Merry to flinch. He gazed over his son's form and gently rocked him, trying to calm him. It didn't help. The more he moved the louder the baby screamed. Not having the mental capacity to take anymore, Merry gently returned Peregrin to Poppy. Once her soft arms the baby ceased, only eliciting a small whimper now and then. Nad ran his palm over Peregrin's forehead, which nearly made Merry collapse to the floor. After the reaction he had just endured, he couldn't believe the baby would allow Nad to touch him. A pang of disgust rolled through the pit of his stomach. 

"I am so sorry Merry," Poppy stuttered. "He normally doesn't act this way with anyone. You are his father. I thought of all people he would recognize you."

"How could he recognize me?" Merry murmured. "He never had the chance to know me. I bolted away without even holding him. No wonder why he doesn't know who I am. It seems he has taken a likening to you two."

"He was restless for the first day," Poppy said. "Poor dear was starved by the time I came."

"Quite the little boy you have Mr. Brandybuck," said Nad. "Quite the boy."

"Yes, he is," Merry muttered.

The couple snuggled together keeping the little one warm in between. At that moment it felt as if his heart had shattered from the sight. His eyes were burning and he fought back tears. Stifling a sob, he brought himself to speak even though his mind told him not to. He wanted what was best for his son.

"In one month I must leave to travel to Gondor," said Merry. "Obviously, I cannot take a newborn on such a perilous journey. Perhaps the two of you would care for him in my absence?"

"Are you sure you want us?" Poppy asked. "I mean, you have family members and even Mr. Gamgee to look after him."

"Sam already has children," said Merry. "I do not want to burden him with another. Besides, Rose has not recently been with child so she has no milk to offer. I think it would be best if Peregrin were to stay with you. Where you choose to live I care not. My home will be available if you choose. I only ask that you keep it tidy while I am gone."

"We will be more then honored to care for your son," Poppy answered, grinning widely.

Nad eyed Merry suspiciously. "You make it sound as if you are not coming back."

"Oh, I will be back in the Shire but I do not know when. Are you sure you're up to watching over Peregrin for that amount of time?"

"More then anything!" Poppy exclaimed. "Nad and I will take good care of him Mr. Brandybuck. Just as if he were our own son....." Her eyes became downcast. "Forgive me. I meant no offense to you."

"There was no offense," Merry replied. "I have heard about your loss from your father. I am truly sorry. Losing a child must be awful."

__

'Something I will feel soon enough,' he thought.

"He will be in good hands Mr. Brandybuck," Poppy said.

"I know he will," said Merry. "I will leave you two alone with him now."

"Wait, don't you want to try to hold him again?" Poppy asked. "He is your son after all and you should spend time with him."

Merry eyed the tiny form in her arms. "Perhaps later, Poppy. I fear if I touch him he will have another outburst."

Leaving the room he returned to his armchair by the fireplace. Brombleburr squeezed his shoulder before entering the hall. Merry sat down and wept.

*

"Unbelievable," Sam sighed.

"What is?" Merry asked.

"I cannot believe how much time has passed," said Sam. "A month has gone by already. It went by so fast."

"I know," Merry murmured, looking at the ground. "I never thought I would be saying good-bye so soon."

"Neither did I," Sam replied. "You never really expect such a time to come. To say farewell to a friend."

"Do not worry so much," Merry chuckled. "I have a feeling our paths will cross again." 

"How is the wound?" asked Sam.

"Much better," Merry replied. "It pains me from time to time though in the cold weather. I....."

"Merry, when will you be coming back?" Sam blurted out.

He averted Sam's gaze. "I do not know."

Sam nodded his head but deep down he knew. Merry gave Sam a long hug before mounting the pony. He checked over his pack and quickly glanced over at the door. Poppy and Nad emerged carrying Peregrin.

"Would you like to hold him before you leave?" Poppy asked, holding the little one out.

"Yes, I should like to try again," Merry said, taking Peregrin in his arms.

A smile crept over Merry's face. Although Peregrin squirmed he did not cry out. The boy's eyes glowed a bright brown when looking up at Merry. Dried tears stained his cheeks, which was rekindled with fresh ones. Merry almost broke down himself as he kissed his son's forehead. Choking back a cry he handed the little one back down to Poppy.

"Watch over him," Merry sobbed. "He is all I have left. I wish so much that I could take him with me but that is impossible. I love him so much. Please, take him inside before I have second thoughts."

"As you wish," Poppy said, bowing.

The two left, allowing Sam and Merry to be alone once again. Both remained silent, uncertain what to say. In the end they shook hands and Merry spurred the pony. Sam stood silently in the path, watching Merry's form slowly diminish. Inside the house Poppy and Nad watched also.

"Come on, Nad," Poppy said. "Let's set up the old crib."

"Why?" Nad asked. "We might as well use Merry and Estella's. When he comes back home...."

"He's not coming back, Nad," Poppy sighed.

Outside Merry continued down the path wiping at the salty streaks. Momentarily, he paused, taking one final glimpse of his home. His head perched up toward the sky; he could feel it through the wind, times were changing but he had known that for a long time. The world he once knew was changing and he would have to bear through it. Even through tears a smile formed. In his memories he would always cherish the Shire for one day it would be no more. He remembered running through the fields with Pippin, riding down the trails with Estella. How badly he wished to back in those innocent times but he pushed it out of his mind. Those days of innocence were gone forever, as well as his loved ones. The world he knew was lost. 

Merry hastily spurred the pony, trying to fight the urge to return home. Images of his son streaked through his head and pain washed over him. The burden of guilt was one he would carry the rest of his life. He knew this was best; he only wanted what was right for his son. Mixed emotions ran throughout him dashing between love and hate. It was not safe for him to be alone with the boy and it probably never would. Once he had been kind and gentle but now was deeply scared and hard. He hated it, hated every bit of it; but most of all, he hated himself.

Trying to clear his thoughts he quietly began to hum. The world around him was buzzing with life while his was slowly dwindling. The journey ahead was far and tedious and one he was not looking forward to. It was going to be lonely. His voice picked up, singing of merrier times.

In summer, when the days were long,

We walked together in the wood:

Our heart was light, our step was strong;

Sweet sensations were there in our blood,

In summer, when the days were long.

We strayed from morning till evening came;

We gathered flowers, and wove crowns;

We walked through poppies red as flame,

Or sat upon green downs;

And wished that life would stay the same.

In summer, when the days were long,

We leaped the hedgegrow, crossed the brook;

And still her voice flowed forth in song,

Or else she read some book,

In summer, when the days were long.

And then we sat beneath the trees,

With shadows lessening in noon;

And in the sunlight and the breeze,

We feasted, many a gorgeous day,

While larks were singing in the trees.

In summer, when the days were long,

Alone I wander, muse alone.

I see her not; but that old song

Under the fragrant wind is blown,

In summer, when the days were long.

Alone I wander in the wood:

But one fair spirit hears my sighs;

And half I see, so glad and good,

The honest daylight of her eyes,

That charmed me under earlier skies.

In the summer, when the days were long,

I love her as we loved of old.

My heart is light, my step is strong;

For love brings back those hours of gold,

In the summer, when the days were long.

This concludes The World We Lost. Another story, entitled The Last Hour, will follow.


End file.
